Scars
by escapedreality
Summary: They are part of them- physically and mentally. And they aren't going away anytime soon.


**CF Spoilers! Oneshot. Happens between Gale's whipping and the quarter quell. (and sorry if some information is a little off, both my books are currently being borrowed) Read&Review**

**Katniss.**

I smile falsely as Cinna and the other stylists greet me. Today's the day of the photo shoot which I am far from looking forward to. They drag me over to get my make-up done, sympathizing at the white-pink line running down my cheek.

Personally I don't see what the issue is, I mean it's nothing compared to how it looked a few weeks ago thanks to my mother. And depending on the light you can barely see it. I would have worse scars than it after the hunger games. But then again, the Capital saw to it that my skin was perfect after. As if scars are a sign of weakness.

Well they're not. Like Gale's hands for instance. They're riddled with them from setting traps that backfired or the slip of a knife. And he's someone who can haul a dead animal through the woods. You have to pretty strong for that.

And Gale is the reason I have this scar. I mean.. no. It isn't. It's the Capital's fault. Thread's fault. But not Gales. He couldn't defend himself from that whip. So I tried, failed, but tried. That's why the white line runs down my cheek. Because of an act of friendship.

Flavius puts the finishing touches on my make-up. You can't see my scar at all. Its completely covered- but still there. As I get led away to be stuffed into my first dress I lick my finger and run it down my cheek, hopefully revealing the scar.

The scar that shows an act of violence, an act of defiance, an act of love.

**Haymitch.**

I pick up the glass and take a sip. Whiskey warms my throat. I take another. And yet another. And slowly all the horrific images that cloud my mind drift away and are replaced by fabricated bliss. And after a bit my eyes close and I drift into a deep sleep.

But you see, the thing is, the whiskey wears off. Its not a permanent fix. I can never erase all the horrific images from my brain. And its magnifyed x10 in the nightmares.

Screams. Blood. Maysallie.

It was all my fault. I was so ignorant. Didn't care. I could have saved her. At least tried.

Katniss tried, Peeta tried and they both succeeded. But not me.

And as a mentor I let 46 innocent kids die. 46. Forty-six goddamn children!

And I watched them. Speared, shot, stabbed, died of hunger, of thirst. All different ways. Gone.

So I drink. and drink. and drink.

But the memories just keep coming back.

Etched in my brain for eternity.

**Gale.**

I lean back against the cart full of coal, immediately straighten back up and wince. My back has healed better than I ever thought it would. Well actually, I don't think I should even be alive after over 40 cracks of the whip. But nevertheless I am, thanks to Ms. Everdeen.

I still am unsure how it happened. I mean, the getting arrested thing. I was taking my turkey up to Cray and soon as the door open the man looked at me, the turkey and arrested me. I found out later it was Thread. Anyway. He dragged me to the center of town, turkey and all. Bound my wrists to the old post and read my charges. A crowd of people started to form. I prayed my mother wasn't among them. For her to see me publicly humiliated the day I was caught.

Then again, the penalty is technically death.

When Thread pulled out the whip I felt my knees tremble. But I stood supported and resolved to be strong.

That resolve failed soon as the whip cracked against my skin the first time. I screamed and my knees gave out. I struggled to stand again and fell soon as the whip cracked against me again. Imagine having a fiery knife stuck in your back and multiply the pain by 10. That's what I felt. And the blows just kept coming. I stopped screaming because my voice was hoarse and wouldn't make any noise. And then I can't remember anymore. I blacked out.

But when I woke up at the Everdeen's Katniss was there. And her eye was swollen shut and she had a mark running down her face. My hatred of Thread and the Capital increased even more.

Because they don't care who the kill, who they hurt. As long as their stronger than everyone. They don't care about anything.

Soulless beasts.

**Ta-da! Sorry it's kind of short. But what did you think? Review please!**


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